Shattered Wind and Broken Tides
by Inita
Summary: Sometimes one must come to terms that they are not the only one in pain. Ventus suffered the abuse and went out every night to prevent the expulsion from his home by working hard on the streets, whereas Xion received more than just beatings and begged for her life to be snuffed out.
1. Prologue

**(this fanfic is uploaded by the same person, just with a higher rating)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.**

_**~.~.~.**_

A light spray of clouds across a clear blue sky that blankets a world in its serenity-filled embrace holds a completely ironic feel to the incidents that occur in any household. The weather may be bright and clear, but it is by outward appearances that people judge by without bothering to look deeper. It is quite humorous in a way, but not so much depending on the situation. One could be upset over a poor test grade, or one could be way too happy for their aura to match such a weather. And that is not humorous in the least bit; especially for the many households in the "neighborhood".

Gazing at a tall brick apartment that stands out among the rest sits a man with very little time to spare. He suspects the worse; the behavior of the two in that estate is far from ordinary. He wants to help, but he can't go in without much evidence, and the way his friend covers and goes on the defense makes something so simple difficult. He knows what it's like to receive an... _odd _treatment, so to speak. The childhood life he, the watcher, was once encased in contains nothing but sadness and remorse; no one came to his aid either.

And that is why he will do something now.

The boy is his friend, always cheerful and bright. Angelic and innocent defines him perfectly as does strong, though not physically. He is quite weak appearance wise and his previous "fights" have proved this theory, but it is the stubbornness of his will that pushes him onwards. This person that currently dominates the watchers thoughts reside in the ratty-looking apartment with broken shutters and damaged property; the owners are miles and miles away from the wealth needed to survive. The kids must not be treated with proper care and are most likely not fed properly; it is why _they _work. The strong-willed and his sister.

The world downtown was filthy, full of litter covered sidewalks and even broken down buildings. An alley seemed to find comfort between the residence he stares at; he knows it gets used often. Some kids take it to get from different places one at a time, and he's seen one of the boys – his friend – use it with his head down and hands stuffed into pockets. It's quite large for just a single alley next to a stiff apartment, but that's the point: It is the best place for those to make money on the streets. If he's lucky, which is usually not the case, he can hear music blaring from that space or some other "talent" trying to stand out among the rest.

He hates this place; the estates do not know the meaning of sanitary, but it is not the renters fault – it's the owners of this disgusting section. All around him he is surrounded by rotting bricks stacked high to the sky, alleys breaking the building rows at uneven intervals. The road seems to go on forever, but he knows one leads to a better place; a _clean _place, while the other ventures deeper into this hellish lot. Sometimes that alley is the easy ticket to get to a school; far quicker and less incidents to deal with.

In the brighter side of town resides a house, not far away from the rotting world he's in now. The person he sees with the boy is shy, timid; and the watcher knows she's dealing with more than what it seems at home. As time grew on, the girl began to withdraw, blue eyes becoming almost crystalline, devoid of anything but a clear shade. She doesn't have many friends, but fortunately, she is not a target for bullies; quite the opposite, but she pushes them away. He knows that there's more behind the curtain, more than the eyes can see.

But if anything, he knows that the two living down here, will help her over there – particularly one of them.

The watcher doesn't know her as well as he knows the boy, but he knows that they can support one another.

All it takes is time...

Without another word, he turns and walks in the opposite direction, features consumed by disbelief and self-hate.

~.~.~.

**(feedback would be appreciated)**

**~ Inita**


	2. So Different, Yet So Alike

**(I will upload the next chapter along with chapter 3 depending on the amount of hits this fanfic gets, or if I happen to get a review; anonymous or not).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts.**

~.~.~.

The wrecked building downtown, imprinted with the address thirty-two stands tall despite the crumbling bricks and debris that litter the base. Plastic, glass, whatever it may be seems to find a nice shelter with the dead grass peeking out from the bottom of the apartment. The steps that lead up to the door are painted a dull grey with a rusty, black railing traveling along with the steps on the right. Broken, splintered white wood paints the door's surface, and the knob is flecked with blotches of peeled brass.

Inside lies a living room with a poorly beaten couch, a small T.V in the corner of the room, an entryway that leads to the small kitchen, and a staircase that leads up to a long hallway, which branches off to four separate rooms.

It was only the afternoon and despite the dark blotches that stretched themselves across and atop his arms, they were nothing in comparison to the most-likely cracked ribs and small, yet agonizing stab wound in his midriff. His step-father thought it "funny" to drive the blasted pocket knife into Ventus just for kicks. Dark blood had blossomed from the wound, contaminating the white shirt he had worn; something in needing of fixing before he left the apartment.

Looking at it now, there was no _way _he was going to be able to earn much today; he'd be lucky if a simple _coin _was tossed his way. In a way, that adjacent alley was practically a second _home_. Ventus knew a lot of people gathered in that one spot; it was a competition and it only worsened if one was up for a challenge. A street performer would not be the best name, but it fit the definition in its own way. Not many people visited this side of town; it was ratty, and the last thing people wanted to do was hang out in an unsanitary setting.

Still, aside from his part time job at a rundown café, it was all he had. It wasn't something he took pride in, but as long as it was supporting both him and Naminé from winding up on the streets, he was okay. The work paid him a fair amount for food and, on a good day, enough to pay off any household insurance that literally kept their shelter afloat. It was the lifeline between shelter and street, and Ventus constantly went back to retie the bonds and add another knot if the string experienced a slight tear. Because small mistakes add up faster than it seems.

Ventus Strife was exactly fifteen, the same age as his sister. He had spiked, corn-colored hair that swept to the right, curving somewhat upwards in a semi arc. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue that seemed to stand out in a large crowd. Despite the conditions and treatments he was under, his skin tone was like the outer sheet of an apricot, healthy looking if it weren't for the many bruises.

There was an epidemic that occurred which resulted in the death of his and Naminé's birth father. Their mother remarried to this asshole, but she died not so long after due to the inability to recover from their father's end. So the step father was left and it wasn't long before he started abusing both of his kids and inviting his buddies over to have a go or just hang out and keep him busy while Ventus and Naminé hid upstairs.

One day, Ventus was caught trying to leave the house (Naminé being locked in her room under her brother's command) for his work on the street. The results were painful; he could barely make it up the stairs and the treatment had concluded Ventus with a busted lip, black eye, and many other injured he could barely recall. He received no money that day.

James, the step father, soon married to another woman, but she was like him in every way: Useless, and a waste of space; another mouth to feed it was and more work for both siblings. Ironically, he hadn't tried to force himself on her like he did Naminé years ago. It is safe to say he never succeeded and despite forcing his step son to assault her, Ventus and Naminé were both saved by a raging phone call concerning the water bill.

Even now Ventus couldn't shake off the shock and terror of that time. His body had quivered with fear and Naminé's eyes were large and frightened, like a lost child. Ventus had achieved a well-rounded beating when he broke through the door to find James towering atop Naminé. He had begged the man to "stop" and that he'd "do whatever he was ordered", but rather that, the bastard had offered Ventus a one-way chance to "be a real man".

Ventus still felt disgusted with himself even now. Granted he never saw anything so to say, but it was the fact that he was forced to hover over his sister on all fours and nearly kiss her with something akin to _lust_ that hurt him so. Naminé hadn't held anything against him; in fact, she seemed to want to be closer to him and be there more when he needed her. Perhaps it was because she knew Ventus wasn't going to be able to uphold the house all on his own that prompted her. What else could it be?

Since that day, he has protected Naminé from James' wrath, taking the punches and kicks instead.

He winced as he pulled himself off the floor, eyes clenched and teeth gritting as the stab wound tore at the corners like a sadistic smile. Ventus' hand immediately flew to the gaping red-stained hole, fingers pressed delicately over the wet fabric atop while his other hand latched onto the edge of the mattress. He thought about moving on the bed; no such luck for the cut stubbornly refused to accommodate with his movements, widening more so. Though he started just slightly when the door opened, expecting it to be his step dad back from his "walk". A sigh of relief escaped him when his eyes locked on Naminé.

She didn't let hesitance cut in front of her actions for she quickly closed the distance between them. Naminé had platinum hair that reached midback, a few locks of hair framing her face. Her eyes were a deep cerulean like her brother's, but the shyness she held prevented them from standing out as much. Her skin was quite pale, limbs scrawny looking albeit strong for her age, and in her petite hands she held a roll of gauze, tape, and a brown bottle of disinfectant. In all honesty, Ventus hated that liquid; it stung depending on the size and severity of the wound. Unfortunately, the treatment today on the stab wound would be quite painful.

A small, reassuring smile made itself known on his features, but he let out a slight hiss when the action split his lip further, drawing blood. "Hey," he said weakly, resisting the urge to grin and notify her he was alright.

Something akin to defeat flashed in Naminé's eyes, and she grasped hold the base of the shirt, gingerly peeling it back. "Don't move..." She muttered when he jerked sharply. '_And after all that's happened, all you can say is "hey"?' _It was a thought Naminé wished she could speak aloud, but she kept quiet, not wanting to worsen the already tender situation. "You don't have to stand between him and I; you're already taking so much. You should let me—"

Ventus shook his head vigorously, all traces of serenity (from what little there was) evaporated from his features. "No. Not after what happened." He responded stiffly through the stinging of the peroxide on the wound. His lungs let go of the breath he held in and his body loosened as he visibly relaxed when the bandage was applied.

Naminé swallowed thickly, averting her gaze to the equipment. She couldn't counter well with that; the most she could muster was, "He didn't actually... Do anything."

Her brother narrowed his eyes at this, pushing himself further against the side of the bed for support. "'Do anything'?" he repeated, pushing aside the traumatic memory that bubbled up in his mind. "Naminé, he could've done 'something' if he had more time. Instead, he..." Ventus cut himself off, knowing what came next: _Used me_. That's what their "father" tried to do; the sick man wanted nothing more than to see _them_ being forced to-

Ventus swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat. It was an _awful_ thing to think about... He couldn't think of doing something like _that _to his sister... He could've done something but instead, he just took the easy way out and was saved by the phone before anything _could _happen.

"I know." Naminé finally spoke, huddling closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder. She placed her left hand overtop his forearm, eyes sliding shut. The words that pleaded release, the ones that would probably force both of them out of the house tangled in her mouth, becoming a jumbled mess beyond comprehending. So she said nothing as Ventus returned the gesture. The only difference was that he kept his eyes open, stare fixated on the door and ears alert for the sound of pounding footsteps.

_Tomorrow after school, he would need to go out and work_.

~.~.~.

A brighter side of the town, not too far away from the drab, resides a small house stuck right in the middle of a busy neighborhood. In contrast to the apartment, this estate is tidier with a well constructed base, well organized stone walkway that lead up to the elegant porch with an elegant door. The windows were practically spotless, and the drive-in that sloped down the hill into the garage sewn into the side of the house was devoid of anything save for the cement flooring. It was a two floor residence that appeared quite handsome on the outside, but held a dark secret on the inside.

The main room was quite large with a sofa, chair, and glass coffee table with two entryways that lead to the kitchen, and another to a dining room. The stairs were facing the door, which led to three rooms at the top.

Xion Fair was a shy, quiet girl with short black hair that just reached only the base of her neck, with bangs framing the sides of her face as well as the forehead. About three locks just barely reached her deep sapphire eyes. Though it was only afternoon, she shook with the fear that filled her up to the brim. She didn't want to be _touched_; not after what happened that morning. He was still in the house, but just in the basement working on God knew what... Xion just prayed it wasn't for her and that he would leave her be for the rest of the night. She would just rush downstairs, grab something to eat for dinner, and leave it at that.

She flinched visibly when the basement door was slammed shut, followed by the pounding footsteps that encircled the house. Her father was mad... At _her_, and she didn't know _why_. There were days where she wished it would all end, and other days where _she _could end; give up the life and go into another.

Her mother had died giving birth to her, and Xion had actually lived a somewhat decent childhood even without her mother. But it all changed when she reached the age of six. At just six, Xion began desperately searching for ways to stay away from the house. When her father came home from a bad day of work, he'd usually take it out on her if she ever "got in the way". Or, if he were drunk (which was worse), Xion would get another "treatment". One that filled her (quite literally) with humiliation and horror. Aside from school, taking certain drugs to prevent pregnancy were her top ten "necessities" on her list – she couldn't risk having an unborn child. Not now. Not yet.

Eyes clenched shut with arms wrapped around her legs, pulling them closer to her body, Xion slowly rocked back and forth on her bed. The tears had long been shed years ago, but every now and then they'd make a reappearance, cascading down her face.

'_I don't want to deal with this anymore... Why can't he just _go_? I hate it... I hate that I let him... I don't deserve to live... The world doesn't need someone as _filthy _as me... I don't _want _to live..._'

The hurtful thoughts dominated her mind as she rested her forehead against her knees. Xion had busied herself with those words continuously, reciting them in her head like a mantra. She just couldn't live with herself like this... Her father was right: She was a filthy, disgusting-

Her train of thoughts was cut off by a loud chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway, signaling that it was probably time for her to go down and get something to eat... If anything, a _crumb _sounded wonderful right about now. As long as she didn't have to face her father's wrath that night, she was fine with anything, really. Carefully, Xion slid off the bed, landing on the floor in a bundled heap, trying her best not to make noise as she rose and crept towards the door. Xion's hand, drenched with perspiration, shook as she clamped it around the bronze door knob, turning it slightly. Sighing softly, she pulled it open and headed downstairs, footfalls landing with even less tension than she had allowed in her room.

About minutes later (which seemed like an eternity for her), Xion had successfully grabbed a few leftovers to eat and made her way upstairs without alerting her father.

That night, she was spared from what she feared most...

~.~.~.

**A/N: **_Yes, Naminé and Ventus are brother and sister, and what the hell?- was I __**drunk **__when I wrote this chapter? D: (okay, I don't drink, but you get the point e.e) If things get worse, I'll be bumping up the rating to an M... Hopefully that won't be the case and I can just write what I please without much of a worry._

_Thanks for reading, and please review if any of you guys have time :D_

**~ Inita**


	3. Things To Be Questioned

**(well, I promised to update after 10 hits, so here's chapter two. Guys, please leave a review if possible. I'd appreciate it, and hey, I may update faster.)**

**(edit: well damn, the stupid guest/anonymous reviews were supposed to be enabled... Screw that; I just fixed it... Okay, reviews are open to everyone now :/)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.**

~.~.~.

'_He's going to want – no... _need_ something longer..._' Naminé noted dully, running her right hand down the black side of his white and ebony-split jacket with the red, pleated collar. Long-sleeves were not a contributing factor to Ventus' wardrobe, but it was pretty high up on the list since the abuse increased to such a revealing state. She remembered the time James almost snapped her brother's wrist beneath the heel of his foot. She remembered the way Ventus had _cried out_... Remembered the way she clamped down on her palm to prevent the sobs from reminding her step-father of her existence. Remembered the way she wanted to _so badly _rush out the door and shove the man off of her brother... Naminé knew the wrist hadn't broken despite the swelled appearance, but it left an ugly bruise for about a week (possibly more) and Ventus was forced to cover it with a white and black checkered wristband. It seemed like said wristband stuck for Ventus hadn't bothered to remove it since then; it became a trademark almost.

She jumped out of her skin when someone knocked on the door softly. Realising it was her brother, she exhaled and pulled open the door, a small smile playing on her lips..

Ventus tried to assure her with a grin of his own, but Naminé couldn't be fooled. He was clothed in a high-necked black shirt with a grey vest with white, angular patterns overtop; the pants he sported were akin to caprice in shades of grey, white, and black. The band encircled his left wrist, an almost harsh reminder of what happened. He seemed perfectly fine if it weren't for the blackened smudge along the right side of his jaw line and the slight, yellow tint on his left cheekbone. Ventus accepted the jacket from her with a small nod, watching as she turned and made way to haul her duffle bag over her shoulder.

When she turned to face her brother though, he was gazing into the body-length mirror adjacent to the door. Guilt and sadness lanced through her as he turned his head to the left, eyes averted to the ground. "You don't need something to cover it, do you?" Naminé whispered, right hand gripping her left arm tightly, tight pressure applying to her pale flesh.

He glanced at her, cerulean eyes devoid of everything but melancholy. He walked over latching on gently to her shoulder. "I'll be fine, Naminé..." he chuckled lightly, trying his hardest to ease the situation. "I can just come up with a good excuse; I was cleaning the kitchen countertops, pulled back and fell. See? It's simple."

She bobbed her head, feeling the corners of her lips tugging into a frown and sensing the tears that would soon prick her eyes. "O-Of course..." She soon felt his arms around her and she let out a small sigh, leaning into his chest, hearing the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart. They both stayed like that, wondering what they were going to _do _that night, and left only when Ventus glanced over at the small alarm clock on Naminé's nightstand.

~.~.~.

If she left the house, she would be dead. If she made too much noise, he would wake up. If she stayed in the house, he would take advantage of her and beat her senseless. So in the end, Xion decided to do what was best: Just leave a small note saying she was on her way to school (after all, it _was _about seven fifteen in the morning), and left out the front door, brushing a few black tresses out of her face. Her eyes remained downcast, flooded with depression and stinging from the approaching tears. She sniffed suddenly, wiping at her eyes furiously with her black sleeve.

The distance between her house and the school wasn't that far; maybe about a block or so over.

In contrast to most students, Xion simply loved school; it took her away from home – her prison. Every day she would try and find ways to stay after, but on the first "welcome back", the task was impossible. Plus, Erik – her father – would not be happy if she didn't show up after an additional hour from the normal school time. The fact that she refused to wake him up or actually speak to him made the matter ten times worse. Oh, _why _didn't she just wait? It would've been a helluva lot easier than having to deal with his wrath later...

Xion's gaze lifted slightly at the sight of the white and beige two story building ahead. There were long cement steps that led to the large double doors, and from the angle she was approaching the school, she could see the football field, track, and bleachers. On the other side (the side that was not visible to her) consisted of four tennis courts and, further down, a pathway that led to the woods most children would go exploring in. The humid weather with the grey sky and dry air did not make the school seem so open and safe – it gave off a vibe that was quite ironic for a first day back.

Chewing on her lower lip, Xion took a tentative step closer, knowing that she was officially safe. For now.

~.~.~.

Ventus hated the idea that he and Naminé weren't in the same class first period. She was practically in the other end of the school while he was stuck in a biology room on the ground floor. Who _knew _what type of people were in her class. Who knew the person she had to get paired up with for whatever assignment it may be... For her sake, Ventus hoped she would be able to tolerate whoever came her way; while school was practically his sanctuary, it was also full of tons of inappropriate and rude students... Especially in a high school; kids were at that "stupid age".

He tried to block out the disdained, toned-voice of the incoming students, complaining about returning to school. Ventus would probably never understand them for as long as he lived; what was there not to like? Sure there were some restrictions put on freedom, but other than that it was great! Students could meet up with friends after a long two and a half month break; why would anyone want to be separated for so long? Plus it was safer – for him and Naminé that was. He never saw (and hoped he wouldn't ever) a person bullied by another. Ventus just hoped that the school faculty handled the situation.

When the bell rung, he turned and made way back to his seat only to find it occupied by someone else.

She had short black hair with a few tresses that clung to her forehead. Her eyes were a deep blue, and it reminded Ventus of holding Naminé's "fake" sapphire underneath the sun – luring and calm. The attire she wore consisted of a black hoody and blue jeans and she had her chin propped up on an open palm while the other continuously tapped a pencil against the desktop. It was quite obvious the girl hadn't noticed Ventus' supplies in the small basket attached beneath the seat – otherwise, she probably wouldn't be here.

He took a hesitant step forward, clearing his throat just a tad bit. "Excuse me?"

The girl tensed and her pencil drew to a halt, but she refused to make eye contact.

Ventus felt the need to back away; he didn't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already was. _But he needed his stuff!_ "I need to... get something, but you can stay there if you want." His eyes darted to the back of the room where a few empty desks were waiting. He knelt down on one knee and grasped hold of the notebooks beneath her. "I just have to get—"

Suddenly, the chair scooted back, the front right leg slamming into his hands, forcing him to withdraw with a hissed "ow". His gaze shifted upwards and their eyes locked – _and all Ventus could see was _fright. Pure, undiluted terror filling her eyes to the very brim. The question was: _Why? _And what did _he _do that caused her to feel so scared? He stood and she took a small step back, clutching something to her chest whilst she tore her stare from his face to the item she held. "I'm sorry..." She whispered, voice soft and barely audible.

As much as he hated asking, Ventus shifted his weight and spoke (just as quietly), "What?"

She refused to respond verbally, choosing instead to remain silent and turn away, walking towards a desk on the other side of the room.

_Wait! What did you _say_? _The words caught up in his throat and all he could do was gap stupidly. It was only the sound of the teacher walking in did he sit down where she once was, noting how the seat was oddly cold despite the fact she was sitting there before class started.

~.~.~.

Naminé knew he wasn't going to be directly leaving the school, so she decided to stay after until he was ready. Ventus had no idea where she was _exactly_, but he had a slight feeling she chose the art room. How she was able to stay in the building despite it being the first day was unknown to him. But as long as she wasn't walking back to their hellhole alone and as long as they made it back in time before their step father returned, he was fine with the whole concept. And as of right now, Ventus was sitting in the auditorium, waiting for his two (and only) friends to finish with the preparations on stage.

Okay, so maybe he was inside the building as well, but as far as he knew, the art room wasn't preparing for some "meeting" or "event" until late November for some art show.

"Ven! Could you help Aqua with the lights?" someone called from onstage. The voice belonged to a young man probably two years older than Ventus himself. In a way, Terra was the opposite of Ven in physical appearance, and sometimes personality. He was obviously taller than the younger by a few feet (due to age or hereditary; it was unknown) and had a muscular build. His hair was even darker, shaded brown rather blonde, but they both had blue eyes albeit Terra's held a tint of grey to them.

He gave a firm nod and responded back with a "sure" before getting up and making way backstage.

Aqua was positioned behind a mechanism of some sort, bending over as she tried another button but to no avail. She let out an irritated groan and fixed her gaze on the lights now illuminating the entire auditorium. Technology was never her special field; she always struggled with it in Junior High (hence why she quit) and steered clear of any machine that contained multiple buttons and commands. Aqua recalled her earlier conversation with Terra when positions were handed out...

"Is this it?"

Ventus' voice sliced through her train of thoughts and she looked over her shoulder, smiling. "Sure is." She knew her younger friend wasn't exactly gifted with electronics either, but he was able to operate them better than her... On a good day. Hopefully that 'good day' was now; she didn't want to put up with any more of Vexen's complaints about the "atrocious machinery in this dump" or how he "wasn't getting paid enough" for working in the school.

His gaze shifted to the digital clock on the adjacent wall; it read three, so he would need to be out of here by three-fifteen at the latest. Otherwise, James would be back and there would be trouble. Major, major trouble... Shaking this off, Ventus walked over to the black machine adorned with different colored buttons. The control panel was open, but he didn't know how to work well with wires, so he let that be... It was better than experimenting with the unknown and getting electrified that was for sure. But then again, that could be the only way to get the bloody _thing _to cooperate.

"Uh... where does the light need to focus...?" He asked, crouching down in front of the control panel anyway.

"Just on the stage, but we need the ones at the bottom as well."

As a matter of fact, while they worked to try and fix the problem, Ventus found it quite ironic how he was helping Aqua and not the other way around. Granted she didn't know about what happened at home, but that was besides the point; Ventus didn't _want _her to know in fear James would find out and not only kill Naminé but Terra and Aqua. And, as powerful as they were, he _could _kill them if he wanted to. The guy was manipulative and dangerous; not a force to screw around with. Sometime during their progress Aqua had asked him how his first day was.

He wanted to tell her about that girl in his first class (since she had seemed to avoid him every period he had with her), but something told him to just wait. So he did. Instead he just talked about the teachers and all the homework he was given, but it wouldn't be that much of a problem. "Just a lot of work." He laughed, slapping a hand down carelessly on top of one of the buttons. Immediately, he retracted as if it had burned him, but the startled feelings dissolved into confusion when the lights centered on the stage and back.

A cheer was heard from the auditorium, but Ventus dismissed it when he felt Aqua pull him into a warm embrace, congratulating him (maybe a bit _too _eagerly? How long was she working on those darn lights anyway?). When she pulled away, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed; no one _ever _hugged him like that. Naminé was different, but Aqua brought a new feel to it – it was maternal, motherly. He bit down a whimper of longing, knowing he wouldn't receive a mere hug from home (save for his sister of course) nearly as comforting, but—

The light bounced off Aqua's form, and he noticed how her the expression on her face changed from happy, to concerned and worry. "Ven..." She started slowly, kneeling so she was at eyesight with his face. The idea of dismissing her scrutinizing vanished when she took note of how tensed he suddenly became, eyes widening. Aqua wasn't one to make her friends feel uncomfortable, but if something was wrong, she would push into that barrier until it broke; just to make sure her friend (or whoever it may be) was alright.

"Why do you have a bruise _that big _on the side of your face?"

He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat, suppressing a shudder as her fingers traced the darkened flesh of his jaw line. Left with no other choice, Ventus pulled away and brought a hand to the bruise. "I-I u-uh..." His gaze shifted to the ground and his teeth dug into his lower lip, pulling the wound open a bit further. Finally, he forced out one word: "_Fell_."

Aqua raised an eyebrow at this, pushing herself off the ground. "You fell...?" Her voice didn't sound convinced, and Ventus knew she wasn't.

_Oh God, she can't know! She can't! She's going to get hurt if she finds out!_ Ventus averted his gaze to the clock and had to push back on the sigh of relief that threatened to break through. It was almost three-fifteen which meant he had about... three or so minutes to get back to Naminé and then home. "Yeah, we were playing a game in gym and I tripped and fell." He said quickly, turning away. "I gotta go get Naminé! My dad will be here to pick us up soon, so I should really go." Ventus charged down the stage, ignoring Aqua's command to tell him to "wait", and he was almost out the door if it weren't for Terra.

"Thanks for helping Ven. What did you guys _do _anyway?" He asked, a slight hint of amusement in his tone.

Ventus shrugged. "Just dumb luck, I guess..." He shuffled his feet and tried peering around his friend (Terra's gaze followed his, but he didn't know what Ventus was seeing). Exhaling, he maneuvered around the latter, saying, "I should get going; my sister's waiting and I don't want to keep her any longer. See ya!" He threw in the last two words when Terra looked ready to object, or worse, question.

With that, Ventus pushed the doors aside and ran towards the art room, knowing the questions wouldn't start up until tomorrow at the latest.

~.~.~.

**~ Inita**


	4. Out of Business

**A/N****: **_Sorry this is so late, guys D: I got "Dream Drop Distance" and I've been playing that like crazy, plus I have summer reading, and on top of that, I've been working on some TWEWY (The World Ends With You) fanfcs ^^; So yeah, busy, busy... Plus for this chapter, I had to do research. A _lot _of freaking research..._

_Anyway, thanks for waiting, and thank you to __**xXxDead AccountxXx, Snowdroplet, Guest **__(who I will reply to in a minute)__**, and xxnoxbigxdealxx**__ for the reviews :) I'll post up review replies for anonymous only; if I didn't reply to your PM, site members, please let me know._

_**Guest: **__Thank you :) I'm glad you liked it and hopefully you're still reading; I finally updated after a good few weeks -facepalm-_

_Alright, so I tried making this more of Xion than Ven...? Hehe... Yeah, no, didn't work :/ On a side note, sorry I haven't responded to PMs, I have a lot of work and stuff to do (summer reading -glares-) because I "love" procrastinating -rolls eyes- But yeah, I'll try to make a writing schedule eventually... I don't' want to because I view writing as an art rather work, but if it gets these finished and if it prevents you guys from elongated waits, then I'm up for it. Plus I have a lot of ideas for this fanfic as well as the others e.e_

_Anyway, read on!_

_Edit: Okay, sorry if you got an alert about this fanfic being updated :/ I had some issues with this chapter, had to delete it, and repost... Fun, huh? Anyway, I may put this fanfic on hold because of "**Fragments of a Dream**"..._

~.~.~.

Ventus and Naminé weren't homeless, but with the insurance and money issues, they were pretty darn close to losing a home. James worked, but any money he earned went straight to the booze and alcohol; big freaking surprise. He would indulge himself until he was practically beyond drunk, and he'd take out all his basked-in anger on Ventus. Naminé would be on the list, but in a way, her brother served as a wall between James and herself. There was no doubt that Naminé was overwhelmed with the guilt of it all, and Ventus knew this. He didn't want to bestow that emotion upon her, but he would rather that than see her get physically abused or worse, raped. Ventus would take the beatings for as long as he was around, even an assault if he had to.

Timidly, he peered outside his room, gazing down the small hallway. When the coast was clear, he crept towards Naminé's room, knocking gingerly on the door. "Naminé? It's Ven; let me in." he whispered. A moment passed before the sound of lock slid out of place, and the door slid open large enough for Ventus to slip in. Crystalline blue eyes slid up tiredly to meet his sister, whose gaze rested on the ground with her sketchbook clutched tightly to her chest. Ventus was unsure of what to say, so he opted to place a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be back in about half an hour... Just keep the door locked if he gets here before I do."

She said nothing. Not even a nod.

A look of desperation flashed across Ventus' face. "Naminé... _Please_."

It was the tone that leaked into the last word that stirred something inside her. The platinum-haired girl met his gaze, and she nodded once. "Okay..." Then, she released the sketchbook and lunged towards Ventus, wrapping her arms around his slim profile. He was so _thin _now... She could almost feel the press of his ribs flush against her, and it further proved that they needed to get the money just for _food_. Of course, there was always the café up the street (in the nicer side of town) that offered a few spots for more workers. But first, it was just work in the large alley adjacent to their apartment.

He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, gingerly pulling away and holding her at arm's length. "It'll be alright, Naminé," he tried for a small smirk to assure her it was alright, but he knew it was hopeless. The bruise along his jaw spoke otherwise, and the fact he was going to be out on the _streets _to at least try to earn a few dollars practically snuffed out all hopes of the day. Regardless, he pushed this aside and smiled anyway, backing out of the room, saying "good-bye" and the he would be back, and closed the door. Ventus refused to move from the spot until he heard the lock slide back in place.

When he heard the 'click' followed by Naminé's quiet "be careful", Ventus nodded and headed downstairs and out the door.

~.~.~.

In no way at all was he a "prostitute"; he would never expose himself to people he didn't know – money involved or not. Only if he was held at gunpoint would he consider this, but for now, he could probably pull in a few bucks if he just "tried out" in the alley.

Aforementioned alley was situated between two apartment buildings, and in contrast to the others, it was quite wide and contained large spacing. If one were to continue down the path, they would be granted quicker access to the road that led to the school. When there weren't many people occupying the alley, Ventus and Naminé would take the path, making way quicker than normal. In the afternoon though, different people would be waiting, talking to one another in a rude manner, or just flat out ignoring and secluding themselves in a corner.

That's usually what Ventus did; he didn't feel comfortable talking to others and in all honesty, he was just there to do his best and pray for a dollar or two. There was usually only one person who he spoke to, and that was the one who _handed out _the money. He was in no way rich or poor, but quite in the middle; some of the people wondered where he was getting all the cash from in the first place. Regardless, as long as he was giving some out, Ventus didn't' over think too much. Usually this guy would come by looking for "talent"; he wasn't there every day, but when he was, he attracted everyone's attention. Ventus was not a street performer, or maybe he was, but it didn't' matter in the end. He just had to do his best.

"Eh? Whaddya want now, blondie?" the guy sneered, trying to brush off the unwanted attention.

Ventus frowned at the nickname, but proceeded anyway. "I can't stay here long, but I need you to give me a few minutes. I'll be out of your way quickly, but I—"

He waved him away with a dismissive hand. "I don't have anything on me, and I won't from now on."

That struck Ventus. Hard. "What do you mean?" This could _not _be happening... What was he going to do now? The café was the first that came to mind, but he didn't have enough time to leave here, run up the street, and then make it back before James arrived back... Or maybe, he _could _if he just hurried- Ventus cut off the man's "reasoning" for his absence of money, and he turned in the opposite direction, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Every now and then, he would stumble from the sharp pains that lanced through his limbs, but he couldn't let that deter him for long.

_For now, he had to put aside the alley._

~.~.~.

It was around four in the afternoon when Xion barreled into work, hurrying into the "Manager's Only" section at the back of the restaurant. As ironic as it seemed, Erik pushed her to get a job because "he couldn't be doing all the shit himself". In other words, he was saying Xion needed to start pulling her weight. At first, Xion was a tad bit hurt at his wording, but as the days and nights between them grew worse, she began to love the musty café with the 'Out of Order' beverage machines, the cash register that failed to respond half the time, and anything, really. As long as no one raised a hand at her, she was at peace and safe.

Xion never negotiated with people – even her coworkers. She was quiet and pushed herself away from others and anyone who tired to speak with her. Even the boss had given up on engaging her in conversation. She lost count of how many people she pushed away. How she survived the first few weeks of this work, Xion had couldn't give the answer to save her life. She supposed it was just pure dumb luck. The only one person who continued to try and negotiate was a redheaded fifteen year old boy named Lea. Today though, he was not here – a day off perhaps.

At first she pondered his absence, but she pushed it aside and averted the focus on her job instead. Xion was positioned behind the counter, fiddling with one of the broken buttons on the cash register. Thankfully, people only came to her if they were getting something to go. And so late in the afternoon, that rarely happened; most adults were at work and usually students who got back from school just chose this place to hang out rather leave and get back on the road. It was easy going most of the time.

When the door to the café however, swung open with a loud bang, she couldn't help but look up.

And Xion's breath hitched.

It was that same blonde boy from her first class. His blue eyes – which were, to her at least, _captivating _in some way – wandered frantically around the room, scanning every now and then. Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn't find it; was unable to. Instead he took a few cautious steps forward (accidentally bumping into another male who shot him a glare) before his gaze landed on Xion. Both stared at each other for a moment before the blonde closed the distance between them. Xion noticed how his eyes and features seemed to calm, taking on a calmer approach.

She broke the eye contact and said nothing. Whatever _he _wanted was _his _problem; as long as it didn't concern her anymore than it did now. If Erik barged in and saw her talking to this boy...

"I'm sorry..." his voice was soft and it struck Xion in a way; she released some of the tension but still refused to utter a single word. "I just... I didn't know you worked here, and... I wanted to apologise for what happened in class this morning. I didn't mean to scare you, really..." A pleading and almost _hurt _tone had weaved into his voice, startling her more so. Before she could make a move, he ventured on: "Do you know where your boss is?"

No response.

"Well..." he rubbed at the back of his head awkwardly, averting his gaze to the ground. "I could always come back later if he isn't—"

"Please go." Xion whispered, bringing a tightly clenched fist to her heart. She felt his gaze on him boring into her, and she subconsciously flinched. "I'm sorry... I really don't know..." When she looked up and their eyes met, Xion could see how clearly the pain was in his eyes. She regretted what she had said instantly, wishing desperately that she could take it back. "He wasn't here when I got in..."

The boy nodded, hesitantly, almost. "Alright. Thanks anyway..." a brief silence passed over the two before he turned around to leave.

"Wait! Could you..." she caught herself when he stopped in place. "...at least give me your name? I could tell him about you if he turns up later..."

Something like gratification and a slight flicker of hope glistened in his eyes when he faced her again. "You don't mind?" When Xion remained silent, he forked over the answer, "I'm Ventus... Ventus Strife, but you can call me Ven." With that, he said "thanks" once again before pushing out the door.

Xion watched him leave through the window, never taking her eyes off of him until he was out of sight. One thing she regretted more than anything else, was forgetting to ask how he got that bruise on his face.

~.~.~.

For a lack of better wording, Erik was _not _pleased when she returned home, pockets devoid of cash. He ranted and raved, saying how _he _would have to work overtime, and as for _punishment_ for the lack of money, Xion had to repay him. She knew at once what he wanted, but she decided to play dumb in hopes he would forget. After his little scream at her, Xion excused herself from the kitchen and made her way into her bedroom, right cheek still stinging from the slap she had received. Biting back the tears, she curled up into a tight ball on her bed, and sniffed, knowing there was really no point in changing out of her uniform – Erik was going to be in at any moment.

But as the minutes ticked by, and no sounds dominated the staircase outside her room, Xion began to relax.

She got up and pressed her ear to the door, trying to listen for any sound of Erik, but the only sounds that met her ear was the droning of the television.

Despite the rage he unleashed on her earlier, Xion was safe for the night.

~.~.~.

Naminé was beyond worried.

It had been about an hour and a half and still no sign of Ventus. James had barged into the apartment and demanded Naminé to come out of the room. She didn't respond and after he slammed his large fists on her door several times, he eventually gave up and went towards her brother's room.

_That _is where all hell broke loose.

Ventus had forgotten to lock his door (Naminé had both of their keys), and James knew that one of his children were missing.

~.~.~.

When Ventus pulled the door open to his apartment, he hadn't expected an immediate fist to the face. The punch sent him to the ground and before he could recover, James had yanked him back up by the shirt and dragged him inside the house. The man slammed his step son up against the wall, wrenching soft, golden hair in a tight grasp. Ventus winced and clenched his teeth, one eye open and wide with fear. He tried desperately to claw at the hand that held him in place, but all that earned him was a backhand across the face, splitting open his lower lip.

"_Where were you?_!" James screamed into Ventus' face, completely neglecting the cry of pain that escaped when the fist holding the blonde's hair twisted harshly at the locks. Whether a question was asked or not during their "integrations", James never let him answer and always fired one of his rules. "You do _not ever _leave this house when I'm not here!_! _Understand?_!_"

Ventus didn't respond quick enough much to James' displeasure, so he was thrown to the ground instead. A steel-toed boot – James' to be exact – plowed into his ribs and Ventus gasped in pain, trying desperately to curl in on himself. The blows continued to rain down on him and it wasn't until Ventus shouted that he _did _understand did James back down. A sob tried wrenching itself out of his throat, but Ventus bit it down, placing a scraped hand overtop his ribs while the other prevented his head from colliding with the floor, keeping him upright.

"You'd better... Or else you and Naminé will regret it later. Now get up to your room before I decide to punish you further." James threatened. When Ventus refused to move and decided to look up at him with those pain-filled blue eyes, he glowered. James reeled back his foot and it immediately slammed into Ventus' chin, slamming his mouth shut with a loud _clamp_. Blood exploded on the inside of Ventus' mouth and he yelled in pain, turning away from his step father's angry glare. Tears rushed to his eyes and clumsily rolled down his face, but Ventus pushed himself onward, dragging himself off the floor (or at least halfway) and limped up the stairs to his room.

He hadn't even reached his room when Naminé's door opened. She shook her head and brought a finger to her lips when he opened his mouth to say her name.

Before he could register what happened next, his vision blurred and his eyelids slid shut, throwing him into an abyss of pain.

~.~.~.

**A/N****: **_I may have to change the rating to get Xion's side in..._

_Not much to say, but I do plan on writing more for TWEWY, so I may put up a KH fanfic that focuses on Neku, Shiki, or Josh – who knows?_

_Anyways, please review if at all possible._

**~ Inita**


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